A Day for Trees

National Love a Tree Day – May 16, 2022.

With every tree there is a story. Tree Day was actually started quite recently by the people of Hyderabad in India. On 15 May 2016 the group Hyderabad Rising rose to protest against the government's plans to cut down thousands of trees around the KBR National Park, to make way for an expressway. Thousands of people of people from all walks of life rallied to protest. Successful, millions of trees were planted as the city residents became more devoted to and appreciative of their trees. It is now a recognized “Tree City of the World” by the UN & World Arbor Day.

But trees also become intertwined with our lives.

Some years ago, at our local St. Michael’s church, an old and respected maple tree was standing in the way of a parking lot. There was a great uprising from parishioners when the pastor announced that the maple tree would have to come down. The old tree held so many memories for the people. They had come to the venerable tree often to have pictures taken at significant and special occasions in their family - First Communions, weddings, funerals and reunions. The old maple tree was a part of their own family history, it had been with them and witnessed the most significant milestones in their family’s life.

An arborist was consulted to assess the health of the tree. It was reported to the congregation that the old tree was failing and there was concern that a branch might fall or the tree might collapse and cause injury to someone or a car. Insurance cost now became part of the concern and rationale. Eventually the pastor said that it would have to come down but in a nod to the concerns, a new tree that was 15 years old would replace it, planted to the side of the parking lot. We did lose old the tree and were consoled by the arrival of a new one was planted for the future generations. But that old maple, still in the hearts and treasured family photos of many had taught us a lesson. That tree is now kin to us all.

Sister Linda Gregg, csj

Finding Sacred Spaces - Earth Day

Image: Unsplash/Pascal van de Vendel

When I was about 9 years old, I set out one morning on an adventure along the beach by my home on the West Coast. I loved nature and the outdoors. I walked about a mile or so along the beach, crossed a stream balancing on fallen logs, then clamoured up a large rock outcropping. But the forest at it’s top was beckoning to me. I wandered into its shepherding branches and was soon entranced by the stalwart beauty reaching to clearest skies. It was like I’d walked into a cathedral of wonder. There was a glimmer ahead through the branches and I followed it. Then the woods broke open into a little space where sunlight sparkled upon a grove of purest white little woodland Easter lilies. It was so breathtaking I knelt down to behold it. Joy filled my soul.

Then I thought how I would love to share this beauty and bring some of the Easter lilies home to my mother. So, I gathered a little bunch up and set off home. Down the rock outcropping, along the beach and over the stream and just a little further to home. I was running now because I was so excited.  I burst into the kitchen with my joyful bouquet. But my mother’s reaction wasn’t what I expected. She was very upset with my gift because these Easter lilies were protected by law. And further I was a Junior Naturalist so I should have known better than to pick them. She was right. The Easter lilies I picked wouldn’t bloom for another 7 years. I was deeply saddened.

But I argued, there were so many of them. It wouldn’t matter, but my mother was firm. She would not take the Easter lilies from me. Instead, she ordered me to return them to their woodland home. Plus, she said, I was trespassing. But I didn’t think that counted though because there wasn’t a fence!

So down to the beach along the shore and over the stream I reluctantly trudged. Up the big rock outcropping I clamoured and puffed and then into the woods. As I knelt by the little woodland grove with my wilting Easter lilies, I realized somehow, in my child’s mind, that I had violated their sacred space. I remember crying and saying how sorry I was. The woodland with the sunlit grove was sacred space, a holy moment that I had been gifted with. I felt and knew in my heart the Easter lilies acknowledging my sorrow.

Image: Unsplash/Noah Buscher

There were many other years in the spring when I would return to that woodland grove, for it had become a sacred space for me. And I was gifted then with the realization that we do not need to take and have everything of beauty, peace, and sacredness else we lose it forever. We need to treasure it and protect it. The memory of that sacred space remains forever with me and has guided me.

Where might your sacred space be?

-Sister Linda Gregg, csj

Fourth Sunday of Lent 2022

Image: Unsplash/Tiffany Nguyen

Be sure and pick a rose for this Sunday. Yes, the Fourth Sunday of Lent is called Laetare Sunday, and the liturgical colour is rose. “Laetare” meaning ‘rejoice’, has its place in our Lenten journey similar to “Gaudete Sunday” in Advent when we pause to anticipate the joy of Christ’s coming. Laetare is a more solemn anticipation, but nonetheless a moment in our penitential Lenten path to remember our Creator is a God of love who invites us to healing of body, mind and spirit. The grace of God’s compassionate love is always beside us in our trials and struggles of life.

Simnel cake has been eaten since medieval times as both a rich, sweet treat and a symbolic ritual. The fruit cake is topped with eleven marzipan balls to represent the eleven apostles of Christ, minus Judas.

With the change of colour we recognize it’s a time to briefly glimpse the joy and celebration that awaits us at Easter, like a spring crocus unexpectedly breaking through the earth. In medieval England simnel cakes (special rich fruitcakes) were a treat given out on this day. It is a signal time of hope and encouragement. Always our Creator is a God of compassionate mercy. Our lives follow a cycle of God’s birth life, death, and resurrection and Laetare Sunday reminds us to keep our perspective of the whole journey in mind and heart. As we are born of the Earth, so our spiritual lives are birthed and rebirthed. Soon the fields will break into green garments, the song time of returning birds will be heard and flowers appear in tidy gardens - and in the most impossible cracks of our pathways. Hope will once again be birthed in God’s creation.

“Soon the fields will break into green garments, the song time of returning birds will be heard and flowers appear in tidy gardens - and in the most impossible cracks of our pathways. Hope will once again be birthed in God’s creation. ”

In today’s scripture the themes of God’s generous nourishment and abundant forgiveness is traced through the readings. In Joshua there is the celebration of Passover with the first produce of the land of Canaan that year. And in the Gospel God’s unconditional love and forgiveness is illustrated in the parable of the ‘Prodigal Son’. Although we might well quibble that the lost son didn’t deserve such a feast upon his return from squandering his father’s inheritance, God’s stance in the father’s actions turns our worldly logic upside down. Repentance and sincere contrition are the only the grounds for God’s unconditional love. The way home to our true self in God’s heart and love is open to us.

Each of us have our lost and shadow selves that we would rather not admit to having. Although we’d rather hide them, sometimes our shortcomings and fears, unworthiness and self-doubts are calling out to us for acceptance and compassionate love. As John 4:18 writes, “perfect love casts out fear”. Fear can be an astute warning sign of danger, but when it overtakes us, fear becomes a self-punishment. That is not God’s way, and the message of Jesus constantly reminds and assures us of this ultimate reality. God’s embracing love is there to clothe us in resilient hope and new courage in all times and circumstances.

St. Paul calls us to be ministers of reconciliation, for as we know God’s forgiveness and compassionate love, so we are called to share the abundance of compassion with those we encounter. It is the way of the heart. And it is the message of the rose.

-Sister Linda Gregg, csj

Winter Solstice

Image: unsplash/Elisa Coluccia

The seasons turn and we notice the days shorten and shadows lengthen earlier. It is approaching the time of the Winter Solstice, a time of deepest darkness when we huddle around our families and warm fires. But it is also a special time when we see brightest stars and wonder is awakened again.

It is the time in its journey when the earth is tilted the furthest from the sun. The Solstice marks the shortest day of our year and is celebrated on December 21, the first day of winter. The days gradually lengthen after this moment in universe time. It is the seasonal rhythm of earth, seeking balance and harmony through the turn of seasons. There is its counterpart, the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year. At the marks of the fall and spring we the season’s change once more, and it is the Autumn and Spring Equinox, equal time of day and night calling us to balance and re-centering in the energies of light and dark.

“It is precious time for being within and seeking the Creator of all being and life nestled in solstice time.”

These seasonal markers of earth have been celebrated by millennia of human ancestors. For the Celts, the calendar was marked by the solstices and equinoxes, marking the Quarter Days. Traditionally our pagan ancestors celebrated this time to pray for the sun with its life and light to return. We often associate “pagan” with a people without faith and the true light. Yet in the origin of word “pagan,” we find beneath its layers of history that it is derived from “people of the woods or people of the land.” Originally a term of disparagement from those who were “civilized.” Yet it is something to ponder in this wintertime, for we have lost our connection to nature. Although we might not follow the pagan traditions that evolved, there is something to recover in our relationship to nature. For we have largely lost our intimate connections with the natural world, for with our technologies and power we feel self-sufficient. Our ancient ancestors knew they needed the earth, to listen to is rhythms and to honour the ways of the universe.

Image: Unsplash/Aaron Burden

The word solstice itself is from the Latin sol “sun” and sistere “to stand still.” The sun seems to stand still, its movement invisible. It reminds us, though to take moments of “standing still,” contemplative space for pondering meaning and place in our hearts and lives. The season of winter calls us to a different way of being, apart from the busy rush of long days of light inviting glad work and happy projects. All now lies dormant as the fields rest and the forest quietens to usher in this sacred time of letting go and renewing of peace and inner life. Beneath the soils there is a waiting, a becoming unseen and yet present, awaiting its wakening when the time is right, and the seasons turn once more. It is precious time for being within and seeking the Creator of all being and life nestled in solstice time.

-Sister Linda Gregg, csj